Swainn’s journey through the occasionally rocky terrain of early 21st-century music has experienced wayward moments, the band re-orienting their direction with a name change from Cockswain to Swainn standing out as a good example, but victories abound as well. The band’s 2021 release Under a Willow Tree made an immediate impact as a groundbreaking release for Neil Jay Ward, Wake and Mandy Lubking, and drummer Brian Daily that proves the Phoenix, Arizona-based outfit as far more than workmanlike adherents of the Flogging Molly school. It has set the stage for even more successful releases since.
The band’s semi-recent addition of bassist Rob MacIntosh supplied the necessary springboard to contemplate revisiting their recent watershed. Adding MacIntosh’s bass playing throughout the album’s eleven cuts impresses a new impetus, a renewed urgency impressive for songs already crackling with energy. Listeners much more familiar with the band’s material will recognize that Neil Jay Ward has recorded new guitar parts as well that bite with the same sharp blood-letting immediacy.
It isn’t a band bashful about stating who they are. Under a Willow Tree opens with the call-to-arms vibe of “Voices” as Ward’s lung-scalding roar introduces listeners to a musical ride that brokers no compromise and plays for itself first, the listener second. There’s no question that Swainn aims to entertain. Each track on Under a Willow Tree, including the kickoff, is written and arranged in such a way that they encourage audience participation. These are definite crowd-pleasers.
However, the beauty is that Swainn accomplishes it on their terms. “Bag o’ Bones” isn’t at all out of place in Under a Willow Tree’s running order despite eschewing the usual alcohol-spiked devilry in favor of plainspoken, yet more reflective musings. It is an album single and puts a confident foot forward in a new direction for Swainn. Jaunty banjo from Wake Lubking opening “In the Morning” sets the stage for a massive surge when the band falls in behind him. It’ll leave unsuspecting listeners whiplashed. It doesn’t let up from there. Another thunderous chorus is the high point that brings it all together.
The vocals for “Home” are the biggest standout for me. I appreciate the loose swing their voices achieve, attentive to each other but lagging slightly behind for effect, and it ultimately radiates a warmth that further distinguishes the song. The marked change in pace is a canny shift of gears for Swainn that further shows their daring. Under a Willow Tree’s peak, for me, comes with the late album cut “Sink or Float”. Swainn won’t have to write a song about the way they see life ever again. It’s a chest-thumping anthem for the band that benefits, in this specific incarnation, from one of the album’s most impassioned recorded performances. They really go for broke here, and it’s impressive hearing it.
There isn’t a single dud on this release. Hearing a brash and young band first realize the extent of their capabilities is a thrilling experience, and Swainn’s Under a Willow Tree holds up under further scrutiny.
Kim Muncie
